


20,000 Leagues or More

by Kacka



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 00:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5764159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kacka/pseuds/Kacka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke never meant to become the captain of any kind of vessel, but she never planned for the only life she ever knew to end because they ran out of air, either, so one way or another she’s going off-book. All she really has is a gutsy idea, an inheritance from her father to fund it, and possibly a death wish. So she does what she thinks anyone in her position might do: she assembles a crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	20,000 Leagues or More

**Author's Note:**

> Little to no worldbuilding here... just a heads-up! Would love to know what you think :)

Clarke never meant to become the captain of any kind of vessel, but she never planned for the only life she ever knew to end because they ran out of air, either, so one way or another she’s going off-book. The only problem with choosing the former over the latter is that she’s never trained as a captain, has never learned much about piloting, has never even set foot on a ship. All she really has is a gutsy idea, an inheritance from her father to fund it, and possibly a death wish. So she does what she thinks anyone in her position might do: she assembles a crew.

The first person she decides she needs is an engineer, someone who can get the Drop, a small but once strong ship, up and running again. She doesn’t want to go to anyone licensed– they might not take orders from a captain as young as herself, and they might even report it back to her mother and the council– so she looks at the trainees and picks the one who stands out from the pack not just for her ingenuity and skill but also for her boldness. Basically, she’s ballsy and competent and Clarke knows many employers won’t appreciate that enough.

“You’re offering me a job?” Raven asks, skeptical. Clarke doesn’t blame her. She’s barely out of school herself, nothing more than a medical trainee. 

“It’s not official,” Clarke says carefully. Her father was silenced for discovering this secret and she’s not about to willingly submit to the same fate. “And it’s dangerous. All I can promise is good pay and some other… benefits, which I can explain once I’ve assembled the rest of my crew.”

Raven raises one eyebrow.

“What exactly do you need from me?”

“I need you to make a retired ship functional. If you do a good job and have any interest in further employment, I’ll offer you a position on the crew to keep it running.” Raven is quiet for an unnervingly long time, thinking it over. Finally, the corners of her mouth quirk upward in a smirk and she extends a hand for Clarke to shake.

“I’ll fix up your ship. And I’ll consider the second job  _ when _ you offer it to me.”

“Sounds fair.”

The next person she needs is a pilot. This is trickier, as the trainees are all assigned to ships. They rarely make it back to base, and they have much more assurance of job security than Raven does. There’s more risk involved in choosing one of them. She’s stumped for a while, until one day she overhears her mother and Wells’s father discussing a full-fledged pilot who got demoted to the janitorial crew when it was uncovered that he had a sibling. He’s apparently been inciting some of his fellow workers, and the council is considering further reprimands. Clarke doesn’t know him personally, but from a lifetime of watching her mother’s career she knows a discontent citizen when she hears of one.

She seeks him out that very evening and he’s everything she thought he’d be: angry with the system, restless from being grounded, and holding a clear grudge against authority figures. In other words, he’s perfect. The only catch is, he doesn’t trust her at all.

“No way the council is sanctioning a career change for me,” he says, crossing his very muscular arms over his chest. Clarke isn’t sure she’ll survive on the Drop with both Raven and Lieutenant Blake. That’s just a lot of attractiveness for such a small ship. “Is this a trap? Are you trying to trick me into doing something else illegal so they can shut me up once and for all?”

“The council doesn’t know about this. I like to think of myself as a private contractor.”

“There are no private contractors in Atlantis.”

“For a limited window of time, there’s exactly one private contractor in Atlantis,” she says, her tone measured. His anger burns hot but hers has always been a cool blade, slicing in perfect cuts that make her more focused, give her more clarity. It might backfire on her, but the more impassioned he gets the more she wonders if they won’t balance each other well.

“Care to share some details about this job before I subject myself to execution?”

“Not yet.” She’s nervous about this part. She wants the ship ready to go before she tells anyone, minimizing the gap between sharing the secret and leaving Atlantis in case any of her crew can’t keep their mouths shut. “It’s a small vessel. Probably can’t carry more than fifteen people. I’ll leave it up to you to choose a crew who will follow your command  _ and _ mine–”

“Absolutely not. There’s no way you’ve ever captained a ship before.”

“My crew, my command. I will defer to your expertise in some matters, but this is a dealbreaker for me, Lieutenant Blake. Take it or leave it.”

He eyes her warily, like a caged animal that’s been offered a chance to escape and hasn’t decided not to attack the one who opened the door.

“And if I decide to take it?”

“I’ll meet you and your carefully chosen crew at the Alpha station junkyard after curfew, one week from today. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

When the day finally comes, she’s nervous that he won’t show. She’s waiting outside her new ship with Raven, who has been using the dump as both a source for parts and a location to be carrying out unauthorized repairs. Clarke isn’t at all convinced the ship will run– she’ll need to run that part by Blake– but she trusts Raven’s skills and confidence in her own abilities.

Curfew has long since come and gone by the time Blake and his chosen few show up. He’s brought a few faces Clarke recognizes: a couple of scientists she studied with, a dark-skinned man wearing a beanie who she’s seen around but doesn’t really know, and Murphy. 

“Murphy? Really?” She addresses Blake, but Murphy is the one who answers.

“You got a problem with that, Princess?”

“That’s Captain to you,” Blake barks before she can snap at him herself. He turns to address Clarke. “Don’t scoff just because he’s a delinquent. He’s actually been on a ship before, which is more than I can probably say for you.”

“What I’m about to tell you could get me floated,” Clarke says, stepping forward to show that she’s not intimidated by his attitude. She’s in charge here, and she can’t let Blake or anyone else forget that. No matter how much she needs him. “If I tell you what I’m about to tell you, I’ll be putting my life in your hands. I don’t trust Murphy with my life.”

“That’s probably smart,” Blake says, crossing his arms again. Clarke is quickly coming to recognize that as his show of dominance, and she crosses hers right back at him. He does notice, and drops his to fist his hands at his sides. “But he owes me his. You don’t have a lot of other options.”

Clarke studies Murphy, who gives a mocking bow but doesn’t dispute what Blake says. She looks over at Raven, who is staring Murphy down in a kind of terrifying way, and Clarke suddenly feels a little better about having Murphy on board.

So she steps back and looks around at the small crowd assembled before her.

“Atlantis is dying,” she announces. “We’re running out of air. The machines that used to filter the water around the bubble and turn it into breathable substance– they’re failing. Fixing them would take longer than the air we have left.”

“What is the council doing about it?” Raven sounds indignant, but Clarke thinks it’s a cover for worry.

“They’ve been meeting around the clock to come up with a solution. Until then, they’re keeping it quiet so they don’t have a panic on their hands.”

“Then how did you find out?” This comes from Bellamy, who doesn’t look like he’s completely buying Clarke’s story.

“My dad was the engineer who discovered the flaw.”

“Holy– your dad was Jake Griffin,” Raven breathes. “They floated him a couple of months ago. Nobody knows why… except–”

“Except the council. And me.” Clarke has cried enough for her father. This isn’t the time. This is the time for honoring his memory by saving as many people as she can fit on her ship. “I’m taking this ship and going to the surface. I don’t know what’s up there, but if the stories are true, I’m hoping I’ll be able to make some kind of life there. This is the part where you make a decision: you can come with me, or you can stay here and take your chances. I won’t blame any of you if you choose to stay, I only ask that you don’t tell anyone until after I’ve left.”

“What about our families?” The guy in the beanie asks, pained.

“We don’t have room for everyone, but I’ll accept passengers until the ship can’t take any more,” Clarke says, swallowing hard. Abby knows about the dire situation and has made her own choices about how to deal with it. Clarke hasn’t completely forgiven her for Jake’s death, but she’s still planning to leave her mother a message apologizing and telling her where she’s gone.

No one says anything until Lieutenant Blake steps forward and says, “When do we leave?”

They set the takeoff date for only a few days later. Clarke spends the time watching Blake inspect the Drop and learning a little about how to pilot the ship. 

“This is the engine,” he says, patting the large piece of machinery with fondness.

“Obviously,” she scowls. “I’m not a total idiot.”

“Every captain should know how to take their vessel apart and put it back together.” 

“We don’t have time for that,” Clarke points out. “Is there anything crucial for me to know about it or can I leave the engineering up to Raven?”

“I don’t actually know much about engines,” he admits, smirking at her. “Besides, this is about three different engines patched together, so the little I do know isn’t necessarily applicable.”

“Quit giving me a hard time and take me back to the cockpit.”

“They hazed me at the academy,” he defends himself, leading her back across the bridge to the control room. “I’m just doing my part to give you a genuine experience.”

“You’re just doing your part to intimidate me into handing command over to you.”

He shrugs.

“I’m probably better suited for it. What exactly qualifies you for the job?”

“It needs to be done and I do what needs doing,” she says, effectively ending the conversation. “Now tell me what these screens do.”

She spends her free time helping the man she’s come to know as Miller as he loads up supplies he’s filched from various places around the city. It answers her unasked question of why Blake chose him. Miller is also someone who does what needs doing, even if that’s less than legal.

Miller’s father is on the guard, so Clarke freaks out a little bit when he shows up to the launch. As it turns out, he’s only come to see Miller off. Miller had extended him an invitation, but he’d declined, promising his son that he would find some way to get on another ship to the surface, this time with more citizens aboard. Clarke leaves her message for the people of Atlantis– and for her mother– in Sergeant Miller’s hands.

Monty and Jasper, the scientists, don’t have much family outside of each other, but they bring two girls aboard with them. Like Clarke, Harper and Monroe have never been on a ship before, but they both seem determined to be as useful as possible. Raven brings her boyfriend Finn and her coworker Kyle, neither of whom appear to have any reservations about getting on a craft that Raven has put together. It does a lot to soothe Clarke’s nervousness. Lieutenant Blake brings his sister– a bright girl named Octavia, all sharp edges and wild curiosity– and glares at everyone to ward off their nonexistent objections. 

“Of course she’s welcome,” Clarke says, annoyed with his attitude when Blake introduces her. “She can go sit with Wells–”

“Jaha?” Blake interrupts. 

“The one and only.”

“You didn’t tell me Chancellor junior was coming along.”

“I’ll remind you, Lieutenant Blake–”

“Bellamy.”

She pauses, caught off-guard. It’s been happening a lot over the past couple of days, as he’s been teaching her the basics. One moment he’ll be difficult and in her face, and the next he’ll act as informally as he might with a friend. She’s getting whiplash.

“Neither Wells nor I have any input on the council’s decisions, Bellamy.” 

“It’s fine if you want to hate me,” Wells calls, from his seat behind Monroe and Harper. “I get it. A lot of people hate my dad; I’m used to having to win people over. But maybe you can get the ship into the water before you actively start despising me?”

“He has a point,” Octavia tells her brother, clearly resistant to the idea of anyone fighting her battles for her, not least of all Bellamy. “I’ll go hate his guts. You’ve got stuff to do.”

“You heard her,” Clarke says, amused, when Bellamy looks like he’s going to argue. “Get to work.”

“Aye aye, Princess,” he mutters, turning to climb up to the control room.

“That’s Captain Princess to you,” she calls after him, grinning when Murphy rolls his eyes and grumbles something about unoriginal insults.

Clarke had previously planned to get them across the border and into open waters by flashing her mother’s credentials and hoping they didn’t look too closely, but when they get to the gate it turns out Miller’s father has called ahead to wave them through. It occurs to her that maybe Bellamy anticipated and orchestrated this, too.

The voyage is not long; it’s only about two full days to the point where actual sunlight reaches. She’s been sitting in the cockpit with Bellamy for most of the journey, reading off data she doesn’t quite understand, being as useful as she knows how to be, and keeping him company. She even sleeps there for a few hours, in case there’s an emergency or he needs a brief reprieve. He refuses to wake her but she thinks he appreciates the sentiment.

“I’m pretty amazed we made it this far,” Bellamy admits, interrupting Clarke’s marveling over the beams of light filtering through the water outside the window. She’s never seen real sunlight before, but she’s dreamed of it her whole life.

“Raven is a genius,” Clarke agrees. The mechanic has mostly holed up in the bowels of the small ship, though Kyle– who prefers to be called Wick by everyone except Raven– and Monroe have been assisting her and Finn is making sure she takes breaks to eat.

“That’s true, but it’s not exactly what I meant.” He’s looking down at the controls instead of at her, which he only does when he’s speaking seriously. It hasn’t happened much, so Clarke straightens and pays attention. “I didn’t expect us to make it to the launch day without getting caught, much less get into open waters. Sergeant Miller must have really given us a good head start before he told anyone we were gone.”

“Or we just have a really good pilot,” she says mildly, enjoying it when surprise crosses his face. He looks over at her and for a long moment, she’s sure he’s trying to see into her soul, trying to figure her out. She wonders when the last time was someone praised his abilities, or paid him a compliment of any kind. When she speaks, her voice is soft, somber. “You don’t trust the world not to crap on you, huh?”

He looks surprised again; she’s finding that she likes being the cause.

“Just learning from experience,” he says, tearing his gaze away. “I showed you mine, now you show me yours. What’s the brave princess afraid of?”

Clarke pauses only for a heartbeat. She’s come to trust this man over the past few days despite the friction that crops up now and then. She knows she wouldn’t have made it this far without him, might not have even made it out of Atlantis undetected if he hadn’t hand-picked the perfect crew, and she’s indescribably grateful.

“Letting all of you down,” she whispers. “Getting all of you killed.” Now she’s the one to look away. “What if we can’t survive on the surface? What if we can’t find land, or we can’t breathe the air? What if the council solves the problem and I’ve made everyone leave their homes behind, leave family and friends, for nothing?”

“We all made our choices to be here, Clarke. We knew the risks.” His deep voice is gentler than she’s ever heard it. She doesn’t think she deserves his kindness.

“I left my  _ mother _ behind. What kind of coward does that?”

“Who we are and who we need to be to survive are two very different things,” Bellamy says, placing a hand on her shoulder briefly. The warmth and the weight of it anchors her in the moment. “This might be the best chance any of us had of surviving, and none of us would be here if it weren’t for you.”

Clarke is still trying to formulate a response when the entire ship shudders. She’s thrown from her seat and lands on the floor, somewhere on top of Bellamy. As much as she wants to enjoy that, they both know now isn’t the time. He scrambles for the controls and she starts down the ladder to the engine room.

On her way down, she passes Murphy and sends him to be on hand in case Bellamy needs assistance. When she gets to the engines, she’s alarmed to find Harper and Jasper dousing flames and Wick hurriedly patching a leak in the hull. Raven, even more distressingly, is pinned beneath the giant machine, her head cradled in Finn’s lap. He’s staring helplessly at her, while the rest of the passengers are crowded in the doorway, looking just as lost. When Clarke sees the blood on the floor, she feels herself focusing, calming. This is what she’s been trained for.

“Go to my cabin and get my first aid kit,” she orders Octavia. “Wells, Finn. Lift that thing off of her. Miller, come with me and get ready to pull her out from under it.”

It’s a few miserable, long hours before Clarke manages to assess the damage and get Raven’s leg in a splint, and Bellamy and Wick stabilize the ship. Luckily for Raven, it was a clean break. Clarke is able to sedate her and is seated with Finn by her bed, monitoring her condition, when Bellamy seeks her out.

“Will she be okay?” His voice startles her, even as soft as he’s spoken.

“She’ll live,” Clarke sighs. “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse. There’s not a lot I could’ve done for her. How’s the Drop?”

“She’ll make it to the surface,” he assures her. “Let’s just hope we come up near land.”

“Let’s come up with a plan in case we don’t,” Clarke says tiredly, standing and starting back to the cockpit. Bellamy grabs her arm and gently redirects her toward her unused cabin.

“Murphy’s okay at the wheel a little while longer. You need to get some actual rest.”

They sit side by side on her bed, slumped against the wall. Clarke doesn’t know what to say, is too exhausted and on edge to really think well. “You got any ideas?” She asks Bellamy. He lets out a long, tired breath.

“Can we figure it out later?”

The next thing she knows, she’s waking up from some actual REM sleep. Someone– she’s guessing Bellamy– moved her so she was laying down and covered her up with her blanket. She takes a moment to feel touched, then pushes herself up to check on the state of things.

Raven is still out. She finds out from Finn that only a few hours have passed, and that Raven has had no change. Wick is tinkering with the engine when she pops in to check on him, and waves Clarke away when she asks if he needs help. She updates him on Raven’s condition and his mood lightens a little. Octavia is sitting with Bellamy when Clarke makes it to the control room.

“Good, you’re awake,” he says when he notices Clarke. “Check it out: we’re almost there.”

Outside the window, Clarke can see fish, brightly colored and beautiful, swimming in schools that seem to think with one mind. The sun is brighter than any light she’s ever seen, radiating from a distinct spot above them. She can feel the motion of the waves above them, and she grins over at her first mate.

“Even if we don’t make it on the surface, this is pretty incredible.”

He smiles back at her, wide and unselfconscious. It’s almost better than looking out the window.

There’s a definite change in pressure when they break the surface. By the time Clarke and Bellamy make it to the top porthole, everyone except Raven and Finn is gathered in the entryway, buzzing with nervousness and excitement. They part for the captain and her first to pass, and she gestures for him to climb up and do the honors. The minute he pushes it open, she can feel the sunlight, hear the sound of birds overhead and waves lapping up against the hull.

They fan out across the top of their ship, jaws dropping as they take in the scenery of the surface and breathe in the natural, unfiltered air. In the distance Clarke can see a land mass, and above her she can see the sky. Even so, her eyes seek Bellamy’s face. He’s watching his sister, who has closed her eyes and spread her arms to breathe in deep. 

Instead of releasing her breath in a sigh, like Clarke expects, Octavia’s eyes open wide and she screams to the sky, “We’re back, bitches!”

The rest of their motley crew cheers and Bellamy’s eyes flicker up to meet Clarke’s. He’s grinning at her, all tanned skin that she knows will grow darker in the sun and brown eyes warm as the air around them, and survival– thriving, even– seems possible in this world. He saunters up next to her and elbows her gently.

“What do you think, Captain? Are we gonna make it?”

“Absolutely,” Clarke decides as she looks around at the crazy crew that followed the crazy captain and takes the hand of a man who trusted her when he didn’t trust anything else. “I think we’re gonna be just fine.”


End file.
